The Spider
by rosetyler39
Summary: Sherlock is a bit of an arachnophobe. John finds this rather amusing. (Could be perceived as Johnlock. The ship isn't explicit, though.)


**I thought I'd take a small break from whump and write something a bit more lighthearted. Though, I've never really been particularly skilled at humour. It seems I'm just better at angst and tragedy.**

 **Yikes.**

 **Anyway, hope this makes you smile. Being an arachnophobe myself, I couldn't help but laugh as I was writing this. Even if it isn't the best writing. :P**

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"JOHN!"

John sighed and paused his typing.

"What is it, Sherlock?"

"I need you! Right now!"

"What for?"

"Just get in here! I am in desperate need of assistance!"

With an eye roll, John set his MacBook down on the arm of the chair and walked over to the bathroom. Upon opening the door, he was slightly shocked by the scene that lay before him:

Backed up against the wall was none other than the very consulting detective who had called him in nothing but a towel, his hair dripping wet as well as the rest of his body.

"What the hell, Sherlock?" John asked, taking in the sight of the recently showered man.

"If you look in the shower, you'll find the source of the problem."

John raised his eyebrow a bit and went to inspect the inside of the shower. His worst fears (which were already pretty scarce) were annulled when his eyes fell upon the eight-legged creature scaling the tiled wall.

"A spider?"

"Yes, John, a spider. Get rid of it."

John turned around, a playful smile on his face.

"It's a _spider_ , Sherlock. A garden spider."

"Yes. And it's interrupted my shower. Get rid of it."

"Why don't you do it yourself?"

Sherlock shuffled his feet a bit and fumbled with his towel, his cheeks blushing red.

John's grin widened slightly.

"Are you scared?"

Sherlock went completely silent, his cheeks turning even redder.

"Sherlock, it's just a tiny bug. It won't harm you."

"It's an arachnid, John; not a bug. Don't be an idiot," Sherlock said, his tone quite harsh.

John frowned.

"Well, it seems to me that you'd rather throw insults around than get this _arachnid_ out of the shower. I wish you the best of luck."

As John began to walk out of the bathroom, he felt a hand grab his arm, holding him back.

"I am not going near that thing, John. You're a military man. I can tell you are hardly fazed by that horrendous creature."

John rolled his eyes.

"Give me a minute."

John went out and returned shortly, holding a piece of stationary in one hand and a glass in the other.

Sherlock gave the items a questioning glance.

"Are you intending on sparing that thing's life?"

"It did nothing to you, Sherlock."

"It chased me out of the shower!"

" _You_ chose to flee from it, even though it was hardly causing a problem."

With one swift movement, John had the tiny spider in the glass, taking care to cover the top with the paper. He looked at it with a smile.

"Hello, little fellow."

Sherlock frowned.

"He is not a 'little fellow', John. He is vermin that wandered uninvited into _my_ bathroom. Now stop coddling it and take it outside."

John looked up at Sherlock with a twinkle in his eye.

"Come on, Sherlock; look at him. Don't you want to keep him?" He brought the glass closer to Sherlock.

"John…" the detective warned, inching his way over to the door.

"Come on," John said, playfully, "Give him a kiss."

"John, I'm petrified at the thought of kissing another _human_. I doubt you'll be able to get me to kiss that thing."

"At least say hello, Sherlock."

John started coming at Sherlock with the glass, and the detective ran out of the bathroom and through the kitchen, his flatmate following him in close pursuit.

"Be nice, Sherlock," John chuckled. "Billy only wants to say hello."

Sherlock climbed on top of the table in the sitting room, knocking a great number of papers to the floor.

"What on earth compelled you to _name_ it?"

John smirked.

"I figured naming it would irritate you."

Sherlock clutched onto the towel around his waist and backed up against the wall as John stepped closer, nearly bumping his head on the bull head.

"Get it out of the flat, John. _Now_."

"Alright, alright," John laughed. "Give me a moment."

The frightened detective gave a relieved sigh as he watched the doctor exit the room with the spider in tow. Only about a minute passed before John returned.

"See?" he said, holding up his hands. "Billy's gone."

"I swear to God, if you call it 'Billy' one more time…"

" _It's_ gone."

Sherlock nodded.

"Good."

"You're still in your towel, you know. And still sopping wet," John pointed out.

Sherlock looked down and blushed, what he saw validating what John had said.

"Oh."

With a kind and rather amused smile, John walked up to the table and held out his hand, offering to help his friend down from his position on the table. Hesitantly, Sherlock took his hand and climbed back down.

"Well, that was rather traumatic," he said as he stood back on the floor.

John rolled his eyes.

"Jesus, you're such a drama queen."

"I am not!"

"Yes. You really, really are; a drama queen, and apparently an arachnophobe."

"Oh, shut up."

"Maybe I'll go out tomorrow and buy us a tarantula," the doctor smirked.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes.

"I do hope you aren't serious."

"We could name it Mycroft."

The detective couldn't help the small smile that crept onto his face.

"Mycroft Jr., perhaps."

"We could give him a tiny umbrella."

The two men snorted.

"Buy him a goldfish."

John started giggling.

"Can't imagine what we'd name the fish, though."

"'Cake'."

The two flatmates were laughing quite heartily at this point.

"Oh my God," John wiped at his eyes. "Your brother's probably hearing every word of this."

Sherlock continued to giggle a bit as he shook his head.

"He only has the CCTV footage. No audio."

John chuckled.

"Can't imagine what he must think. I mean, me chasing after you with a spider, you being in nothing but a towel, and now us laughing like bloody maniacs. I wonder how confusing this must all look."

"Oh, I don't care," Sherlock shrugged, tightening his towel. "Let him think what he wants to. It doesn't change the fact that I know exactly what we're getting him for Christmas next year."

"We'll get him a lovely little card from the drugstore and sign it."

"'From Sherlock and John- After all, every pest needs a goldfish'."

"'Three X's, three O's."

"He'll be repulsed."

John snickered.

"And it will be absolutely glorious."

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 **I always do appreciate reviews! :)**


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